


3am

by MiddleofNowhere92



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern Era, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Country Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29952162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiddleofNowhere92/pseuds/MiddleofNowhere92
Summary: Sokka struggles to write music for his country album and get a peaceful night's sleep. Mai helps with both.
Relationships: Mai/Sokka (Avatar)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: 2021 Avatar Pro-Shipping Rare Pair Challenge





	3am

**Author's Note:**

> TW: PTSD as a result of serving in the military
> 
> I rated this T, because I didn't get too heavy or detailed in descriptions. I just mentioned Sokka having nightmares.

Gran-gran often ranted to Sokka about the devil. On one of her many rants, she would go on about how 3am was the devil’s hour, that nothing good could happen at such an ungodly time. 

Sokka wasn’t too sure if 3am was his personal heaven or hell. Sleep had evaded him, as it always had, since he was honorably discharged by the service. 

He had seen things- _horrible_ things, real life nightmares. 

He had thought that at some point, he would recover. He had been led to believe that time healed all wounds. The war had been over for ten years now, but his wounds still felt fresh and gaping. 

He stared out the kitchen window into the night. Mai was sitting by the bonfire, with a blanket wrapped around her legs, her headphones over her ears and she stared intently at the laptop in her lap. His grandmother would probably say that Mai too was a product of the devil. He smirked at the thought. Her long black hair was shiny and soft. She had more piercings than he had ever seen on a person and her all black attire surely would have Gran-Gran pitching a fit. 

Sokka hadn’t been too sure about her at first, but he learned that Mai was tough as nails, but could be soft too, when he needed it.

Mai was doing what he should be doing, working on songs for his album. She had caught on pretty quickly that Sokka was most productive around 3am. It didn’t take her too long to figure out why. He had fallen asleep in front of the TV one night and woken up as Mai shook him saying, “It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream.”

Toph must have known that Mai would be a good person to work with him. She had woken him up many times now from many nightmares. Sometimes he would tell her about them. Most times he didn’t. But she didn’t push or pull like Yue. Her eyes didn’t beg for answers like Suki’s did. 

Sokka tried to shake off the cobweb of thoughts that were clinging to him. He swung out the back door and took the seat next to Mai. She pulled off the shiny red headphones and her lips turned in a small smile. The fire danced prettily in her eyes. 

It was a quiet, still summer night in the mountains. Away from the city, he could easily make out the constellations in the night sky. It was a peaceful night and it made him envious, because he had not known peace in years. 

He stared into the flames of the fire and asked, “Do you think I’ll recover? Do you think I’ll ever be able to sleep?”

The quiet stretched on between them, making Sokka question whether he had even voiced his question out loud. Mai finally answered, “Recovery isn’t linear. I have good days and I have bad days. I take two steps forward and about twenty back. It takes a lot of work. We think that things just magically go away, but they don’t. If you hurt a body part you go to physical therapy or get surgery for it. The mind is the same way, you have to put in effort.”

He wanted to bite back that he was putting in effort, but was he? Therapy was an on and off thing for him. He would go when the dreams became too real, too close, but he would drift away once the nightmares became duller. He could probably stand to work a little bit harder. 

Out of the corner of his eye he watched Mai pull at the sleeves of her hoodie. It was a tick, she did it more times than he could count throughout the day. Mai had never shared much about her past with him. She wasn’t a talker like he was, but maybe if he was patient she would. He recognized that what was in her was in him-pain. Maybe if he trusted her enough, she would trust him too.

His mind was heavy and tired from avoiding sleep and the subsequent nightmares. 

He handed her the cherry red acoustic guitar that was leaned against his chair and asked, “Sing?” Her long fingers grasped it and pulled it into her lap. Her eyes were bright as she asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be the one singing, cowboy?”

He nestled back into the wooden adirondack chair, “You’re better at it, city slicker.” He leaned his head back and took a deep breath of the clean night air as she strummed and started singing-

_ Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above _

_ Don't fence me in _

_ Let me ride through the wide open country that I love _

_ Don't fence me in _

_ Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze _

_ And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees _

_ Send me off forever, but I ask you please _

_ Don't fence me in _

_ Just turn me loose _

_ Let me straddle my old saddle _

_ Underneath the Western skies _

_ On my Cayuse _

_ Let me wander over yonder _

_ Till I see the mountains rise _

_ I want to ride to the ridge where the West commences _

_ And gaze at the moon till I lose my senses _

_ And I can't look at hobbles and I can't stand fences _

_ Don't fence me in _

Sokka’s eyelids grew heavy. Mai’s voice was like a hot toddy- warm, rich and comforting. It reminded him of the comfort of the ocean waves, rocking him to sleep in his bunk on the navy ship he had been on for so long.

Mai glanced over at Sokka as she lazily strummed her guitar and hummed along to the tune. His eyes were closed, his mouth was hanging open enough for a little drool to drip down onto his blue t-shirt. His neck was twisted awkwardly in the hard chair. She knew she should wake him or he would hurt tomorrow, but right now the hurt was gone. He looked peaceful under the shining night sky. Even though, she knew it was only a matter of time before a flashback would twist his features in pain and sorrow. 

Mai knew that both her and Sokka hurt in different ways, for different reasons, but Sokka didn’t deserve to hurt. He was a genuinely good person, one of the nicest people she had ever met. He didn’t deserve the hell that were his recurring nightmares. He deserved to always be like this- calm and untroubled. 

She wasn’t an expert on overcoming trauma. She had plenty of her own that she hid under baggy clothes and long sleeves, but she terribly wanted to alleviate this invisible war that Sokka fought every night. So, she would keep singing to him, letting him drift off into a happy dream or nothingness, anything was better than a nightmare. 

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea a long time ago for these two in a country music AU, but I couldn't figure out how to write it, so here's my attempt. 
> 
> The song referenced is Don't Fence Me In by Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters.
> 
> This fic is for the injury/recovery prompt for the 2021 ATLA rarepair pro shipping challenge. If you haven't gotten enough of my idiocy come be my fren on [tumblr](https://middleofnowhere92.tumblr.com)


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